To Be Loved
by TamyG
Summary: How would have the story turned out if Gisborne was a woman? Takes off from the beginning of season 2. Will have parts from the original series. Pairings: Female Guy/Allan and a little bit of Robin/Knighton
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of RH BBC characters.**

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_Chapter 1 (Revised)_

The prideful lady galloped on the back of her black stallion with absolute gracefulness. She would catch the eyes of men and women alike, for her beauty was beyond compare. She had a long, silky, raven hair that was always tied up in a ponytail; an unblemished, fair skin that held a pair of dreamy, blue eyes framed with long, dark lashes; a tiny, chiseled nose and thin, rosy lips. She wore black, leather clothes that perfectly complimented her curves and always kept a sword around her tiny waist.

Her beauty was undeniable, but her attitude was that of a grumpy, old soldier. She had the worst temper of all, she will kill without the tiniest bit of hesitation and will definitely cut anyone who dares to touch her or attempt a move on her. Even the Sheriff himself wasn't safe around her; once he was drunk and tempted to touch her bottom, but received a nasty blow to the chest that had bruised into a sick combination of green and purple. He would have hung her for it, if she weren't too valuable to him at the moment, that, and the fact that every man in his miserable, so-called army was either scared of her bad temper or spellbound by her beauty.

She was Guyline of Gisborne, the Sheriff's right hand, and the dark fallen angle as the peasants liked to call her; a beautiful, merciless angle that will kill anyone who defies her with a single swing of her sword.

Finally, reaching the gates of Nottingham's Castle, she dismounted her stallion and headed straight to the castle's dungeons. Last night she had captured one of the outlaws whilst cheating some inn customers for a few, petty shillings and now she planned to torture him for information of Hood. Moreover, she needed to vent out the anger and the disappointment that were deeply suppressing in her, and her prisoner seemed like the perfect outlet.

Once Guyline had reached the dungeons, she motioned for the jailer to show her the way. The latter obliged by taking her to the furthest cell, where a young brown-haired man was chained to the wall. The jailer opened the cell door, and then handed her the keys cautiously; he had seen her torture many prisoners and it never ceased to send a shiver down his spine.

"You can leave now." Guyline ordered with a dismissive hand, while eyeing her prisoner.

"Yes, My Lady." The jailer replied with a slight bow before scurrying away.

The chained guy raised his head as soon as he noticed his visitor and said sarcastically, "I'm not being funny, but I'm trying to get some sleep in here."

"Always trying to be the funny guy, eh, Allan?" Guyline scoffed, taking short-paced steps towards her prisoner with arms crossed against her leather-clad chest.

"I will take that as a compliment." Allan grinned and stared at the lady in front of him with mocking, blue eyes. His left eye was showing early signs of bruising and his chin was smudged with traces of blood, both compliments of Guyline's men.

"Take it as you like, for you are the one in chains." Guyline ironically retorted, once she got closer to the chained guy, but stopped few inches away.

"I won't mind playing it rough with a fine lady like you." Allan countered with a taunting smirk.

He was about to add a wink, but Guyline swiftly brought a dagger to his throat, making a small cut that started to bleed; the former swallowed hard, when he had felt warm blood trickling down his throat.

"Watch your tongue fool!" Guyline hissed; if she didn't need information regarding Hood's gang, she would have gone all the way.

"Whoa! Calm down, I mean no harm!" Allan exclaimed nervously, "I won't let out any other word without your permission, promise."

"Good." The lady, clad in black, replied with a smirk, "Then tell me about Hood."

"Erm… a fine, dark blond?" Allan answered with a nervous smile; he knew better than to anger the ill-tempered lady, yet he found himself unable to withhold his taunting nature. He kicked himself mentally, for he knew what was coming next, and most definitely knew that it won't be pretty.

"And here I thought you were a smart one Allan A' Dale." Guyline remarked almost calmly, which made Allan flinch. He got even more nervous than he already was, when she turned around to fetch something that was barely visible, and was hanging near the cell door.

"Let us see how long you can keep up with that act of yours, shall we?" Guyline added with a twisted smirk as she turned on her heels to face him, and lashed a whip, making a loud slashing sound that echoed throughout the dungeon's hallways.

It took Allan five excruciating lashes, to his already abused body, to betray his gang. As soon as the fifth lash had made contact with his bleeding back, adding a new gash to the previous ones, he took in a heavy gasp and shouted, "Fine! Stop and I'll tell you whatever you want!"

"Now that's what a smart one would have sounded like." Guyline mocked with an obvious hint of victory in her voice, "You are mine now."

She walked to the panting man, lifted his chin and said with a smirk "From now on you will be working for me. You will be my little spy in Hood's camp of outlaws and deliver me all their plans, are we clear? And of course you will be rewarded handsomely and ultimately with a noble title once the King is dead."

"Aye." Allan yielded through the pain; he didn't want to be tortured anymore, his whole back was already drenching with blood, and her offer didn't sound that bad either.

Guyline nodded in approval and unchained her spy, who fell on the ground unable to balance himself from the searing pain in his back.

"I'm not being funny but," Allan winced as he tried to stand up, "Your wedding's unfortunate turn seems to hit you hard, aye? I could feel it in every whip."

At the mention of her wedding, Guyline promptly grab Allan from his collar and snapped, "Don't you ever dare speak a word of it again!" She had then pulled Allan's hair, yanking his head backwards and forcing his eyes to meet her blue ones, before she kicked him right into his abdomen, and stormed out of the cell.

Allan clenched his abdomen and coughed in pain, while trying to catch some air that seemed to be escaping him. He didn't hate her for the kick since it was obviously his fault; however, he couldn't dismiss the pain and sorrow he had seen in her eyes. She might have tried to conceal it with rage, but if there was anything that Allan was great at, it was reading people and what he had seen was as clear as day. He felt sorry for her and hated his mouth for always beating his brain, especially this time.

"You really hit the right nerve, didn't you? Stupid Allan A' Dale." Allan scolded himself with a groggy voice, before getting intercepted by the jailer's presence.

"Come on now." The jailer sneered, "Scamper away before she changes her mind."

"Aye…" Allan replied and left as fast as his aching body could go.

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**I hope it wasn't that weird. I always thought of how Guy being a woman would have altered the story. More surprises next chapter! Hope you liked it and please don't forget to leave a review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: Thanks to my first reviewer, nick, this chapter goes to you wherever you are! You will find the answer to your Q here.**

**Please read & review. I really need to know your opinion on this fic.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, just the little twist that I came up with.**

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_Chapter 2 (Revised)_

It was almost midnight, when Allan had finally reached the camp. The gang members were huddled around the campfire, chatting while having dinner; it was John who first noticed Allan's arrival.

"Where have you been?" John inquired, alarming the rest of the gang of Allan's arrival, except for Robin who wasn't there.

"Just back at the tavern, you know, the usual." Allan replied, while trying to muster a grin and support himself against a nearby tree, in an attempt to hide the state he was in.

"Allan!" Djaq exclaimed promptly with a worried expression, when she noticed the traces of blood on his shirt that were almost concealed by the darkness, "You are hurt!"

"Nothing passes your eyes, eh?" Allan chuckled wearily, "A little fight that's all."

The Saracen woman ran to aid the injured man, then placed a shoulder under his arms for support and urged, "Come, let me treat your wounds."

"Aye..." Allan winced in pain; he was exhausted, but tried not to force all of his weight on the woman who had come for his aid.

The two entered a small area, covered with a cloth, where Djaq mixed and kept her medical supplies and instruments. She placed Allan on her bed, and went to grab some of the supplies to treat his wounds.

"So tell me," She said, as she searched through her things, "What did really happen?"

"Eh?" Was all that Allan could come up with; he knew Djaq had sharp eyes, but he truly didn't feel like talking about the actual incident.

"Your wounds, I can tell that they weren't from any tavern fight without even examining them." Djaq explained as she was still gathering her medical supplies, "A fist fight might have given you purple eye but never a bloody back."

Allan heaved a deep sigh, and then confessed, "You really do have a good eye for such things… You are right, I haven't been in a fist fight, I…" He trailed, as he got a bit hesitant, but then added, "I got captured."

"What?! You mean you have been tortured?" Djaq exclaimed in dismay, while moving closer to the injured man to help him get rid of his blood soaked shirt.

"Yah…Guyline." He replied with bitterness, and cringed as he felt the unpleasant friction caused by the removal of his shirt, "Please don't tell the gang, I don't want to worry them."

"I promise I won't." She assured, and then gasped as she saw the long, deep cuts on his back. She hurriedly spilled some kind of a liquid on a piece of cloth and said, "I'm sorry, this might sting a bit, but it's necessary to prevent any infection."

The moment the cloth touched his wounds Allan flinched, then dug his nails into his thighs and let out long hiss in pain. However, the pain soon subsided, as Djaq applied something else that felt cool and soothing before wrapping him up.

"I still don't understand how such beauty can cause such pain." Djaq sighed with pity, as she finished wrapping Allan with a clean cloth. She then carried back her supplies to their respectful places, giving her back to Allan as she did so.

"One with greater pain." Allan replied with a barely audible voice.

"Did you say something?" Djaq inquired as she turned around to look at him, the latter just shook his head with a no. He was quite relieved that she didn't hear him, since he didn't have the slightest clue on why he had said it; he just knew that he carries sympathy for the one who had caused him this pain.

The Saracen gave his wrapped wounds one last checkup before adding, "You should try to get some rest. There's no need to move, you can use my bed for tonight and I will use yours, that if you don't mind."

"Thanks Djaq." Allan had replied in appreciation, and gave her a weary smile before she bade him a goodnight and left.

Allan lay down and thought of the dark beauty with the crystal, blue eyes that harbored so much sorrow. He didn't understand why he felt so sorry for her, but he was too tired to think. So, he just gave up and allowed slumber to take over his exhausted and abused body.

At the same time, in one of the castle's chambers, a tall, well-built brunet stood in front of the mirror, revealing his abdomen. He placed the tip of his fingers near his waist and traced a scar that was once a deep, lethal wound, caused by a stab of a dagger. He winced a little bit at the memory before getting intercepted by a low chuckle.

"Who is there?!" The brunet demanded as he turned around defensively.

"Getting a little bit lonely, eh, Mark of Knighton?" Teased a voice that came from behind the curtains.

A thin visage with a short, dirty-blond hair stepped out with a huge grin plastered on her face. She then took a huge step forward and jumped into the brunet's arms.

"Robin!" Mark exclaimed, cheerfully receiving the woman into his embrace.

"Miss me?" Robin teased as she wrapped her hands around her beloved, bringing him closer into a kiss.

The brunet obliged wholly, as he stared at the blue eyes staring back at him before slowly closing his and brushing his lips against the pink, soft ones. The kiss was deep, yet sweet; the man couldn't help but tighten his embrace, and deepen the kiss even further, as he desperately needed a positive energy in his life right now.

"What are you doing here?" Mark asked as soon as they broke the kiss.

"I came to check up on you." Robin replied with concern, while caressing the man's cheek, "How are you holding up, Mark?"

"Trying my best." He sighed with a forced smile. Despite the roughness of the hand that was caressing him, he felt his muscles relaxing at its touch. "It has been hard since you know…" Mark tried to add, but took a step backwards, releasing the woman from his embrace as he trailed off.

"Since you left Guyline at the altar?" Robin finished his sentence grimly.

The brunet simply nodded in desperation, and stared downright to the ground. A hand swiftly grasped his, giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement, while the other rested under his chin, nudging his head upwards. He acknowledged the nudge, and was now looking at the eyes of the woman he dearly loved.

"You know you are always welcomed to the gang." Robin assured him with a smile, while gently squeezing and caressing his hand, "I can also teach Guyline a lesson or two if she keeps harassing you."

"Thank you." Mark replied with a sad smile, "But you know I can't leave my father alone, he won't survive without me and I can perfectly handle Guyline on my own."

"Yah…I do." Robin sighed deeply with a disappointed look, "It just annoys me that she gets to see you everyday."

Mark sensed the sadness that he had caused Robin, when her hand stopped squeezing his. So, he abruptly, but tenderly, pulled his beloved to his chest, bringing her face closer to his. Once the tip of their noses had touched, he whispered softly, "I'm glad you came, love."

"So do I." Robin replied with a smile; she could feel her man's warm breath on her lips, his sturdy hand around her waist, and knew that nothing else mattered, because Guyline will never have the pleasure of being this close to Mark. Now that Robin felt satisfied, she placed a quick peck on Mark's lip before breaking their embrace, then headed to the window and jumped on its sill.

"See you soon my handsome lord." She grinned and waved at the smiling brunet before disappearing into the night.

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**A/n: Just in case anyone is confused, Mark is Marian & Robin is Robin. Well the name suits both genders and am to lazy to come up with something else, sue me! xD**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Both chapters 1 & 2 have been revised. Just corrected some grammar mistakes and added a few lines.**

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The next day, Robin sat near the, now, dead campfire whistling a happy tone while sharpening her arrows so she would be ready whenever they're needed. This morning seemed deliriously breathtaking; she enjoyed the chirping of the birds, the smell of the morning dew mixed with dried up leaves and even Much's continuous grumbling sounded pretty less annoying than the usual. Last night's encounter has boosted her mood quite well; she remembered the passionate kiss she shared with her beloved brunet and let out a cheerful giggle.

"You seem awfully chirpy this morning, something good happened last night?" the injured man teased as he staggered to where Robin was seated, "Met up with a little Mark bird, aye?"

Robin was about to brush him off, however, when she saw the way he's struggling to reach the campfire area, she couldn't find the right words anymore and simply cried out his name in disbelief, "Allan!" The latter shot Djaq, who was sitting near Robin, a worried look and in return she gave Allan a reassuring smile ascertaining that she didn't break her promise.

Feeling reassured Allan pulled on his weight and scoffed, "Not being funny but, you're quite loud Robin and it's not helping with my headache." He then let out a meek sigh when he finally reached them and sat next to Djaq.

"Would you like something for your headache?" Djaq offered while eyeing his covered wounds.

"Will highly appreciate it." Allan replied whilst rubbing his temples with shuteyes. Djaq nodded and hurried towards her sleeping area to fetch him the remedy in mind.

"What happened to you? You look terrible." Robin questioned with dismay as she fiddled with her bow.

"You don't say…" Allan retorted then grabbed a waterskin that lay next to the dead firewood and took a mouthful. "Oi Much! Would you hurry, I'm starving in here!"

"Then why don't you move your lazy bum and help me out?!" Much cried back at Allan then mumbled with frustration, "Always ordering me around and never have the decency to offer any help…"

"My lazy bum only exists for the beautiful lasses of England." Allan teased, but then suffered a sharp pain across his back from all the yelling and cursed under his breath. Yesterday's scorching pain was replaced with a battering one; he felt like he had been stomped by a herd of horses.

"So?" Robin urged, pulling back Allan's attention, stubbornly demanding an answer.

"So," Allan retorted, still dodging her question, "How's the little birdy?"

"Shut up" Robin rolled her eyes then pointed her bow in Allan's direction, "And would you stop ignoring my question and tell me already how you got so beaten up?"

"Ol'right, ol'right! If it would stop you from raising my headache," Allan grunted with obvious annoyance, "I was trying to cheat some fools in the tavern for a couple shillings and got a decent beat up for it. Happy?"

"You know the fool is you." Robin pointed out with a shrug then focused back at her weapon.

Allan wasn't in the right mood, neither mentally nor physically, to counter Robin's remark and just decided to let it slide this time.

All the while, Djaq was mixing the necessary herbs for the remedy and came back carrying a bowl filled with some weird-colored, thick liquid, "Here drink this, it will relax your muscles and relieve you from the headache."

"Not being funny but this smells like horseshit! How am I supposed to drink it?" Allan snorted in disgust as he pinched his nostrils to block the foul smell.

"Nobody is forcing you." Djaq retorted with a scowl, "Enjoy your headache."

Djaq was about to leave with the remedy when Allan caught her forearm and grabbed the bowl, "Fine! I'll drink it, just stop sulking."

"Who's sulking?!" Djaq exclaimed, feeling her face getting flustered, "You're such a child Allan!"

"Yah… yah… Obviously I'm a childish fool." Allan chuckled then drank Djaq's remedy in one mouthful, causing him to cough and chock at the sudden bitterness that invaded his throat.

"Serves you right." Robin laughed at Allan.

"What did he do this time?" John questioned, carrying twigs and logs as he walked in into the camp next to Will, who carried their breakfast; a squirrel and a rabbit.

"Why do you always presume that I did something?" Allan demanded through his coughs.

"Because you always manage to run into trouble." Will answered nonchalantly and went to the kitchen area to hand Much their breakfast to be.

"Yah…yah." Allan retorted with a curt hand gesture before going into deep thoughts. He remembered the deal he agreed upon last night; a deal with a fallen angel that is. He did feel a pang of guilt at the time, but saw no harm in selling their plans for decent monies as long as he keeps their camp's whereabouts a secret. His thoughts were then intercepted at the mention of the Sheriff.

"We're going to steal from the Sheriff's strong room!" Robin promptly declared, eyes glinting with a hint of mischief.

The whole gang was excited with the plan; they've been on lucky streak and saw this as the ultimate prize of beating the Sheriff. That day, they sneaked into the castle with high hopes, however, the strong room have proven to be quite the hassle; pressure triggered plates, triplines and various other traps have sent them back to their camp unsuccessful. They only succeeded at alarming the Sheriff, nonetheless, Robin wasn't about to give up.

At the meantime, Allan couldn't stop thinking of Guyline, he felt disgust by his thoughts yet couldn't help but doing so. He felt the urge to see her and Robin's relentlessness has given him a good opportunity; he will arrange a meeting with Guyline to tell her of Robin's plan of having a second run at the strong room.

Later that evening, Allan has placed a sign indicating for Guyline their meeting location. He has been waiting anxiously in a secluded room at the back of the tavern for her arrival, the urge of seeing her was blinding him and confusing. The anxiety of waiting was taking him over, at a whim he decided to leave but was stopped as soon as he opened the door and was forced back in.

"Leaving so soon?" a dark figure questioned whilst revealing its face, Guyline's. She then flashed a pouch of money and demanded, "Got your message, what have you got for me?"

"Robin wants to have another go at your strong room." Allan replied.

"Obviously, and?" Guyline urged.

At that moment Allan realized that Robin was right, he was a fool. What was he thinking coming here with obvious information?

"Well that's it…It'll be the next few days though." He added desperately, hoping it would somehow satisfy the annoyed lady.

"Don't waste my time! I don't pay for obvious!" Guyline sneered, "You've to do better than that."

"Like what?" Allan asked.

"Who told Robin Hood about the strong room?" Guyline questioned.

"I don't know." Allan replied, but got pushed by an angry Guyline and hastily added, "I don't, honest." That was a second thing he wouldn't share with Guyline, Mark was a good-spirited man and he would never betray him.

Whatever Guyline said at that moment was all a blur to him, the sudden proximity have dazzled him. Her crystal blue eyes mesmerized him, her angry face held a wild kind of beauty that incited him and her warm, raging breath caused a knot in his stomach that he couldn't fathom. He remained in that enthralled state until the clink of a coin that made contact with the stony floor forced him to snap out of it. Guyline was gone and he felt like the stupidest man in the whole of England.

"God… what's wrong with me? Acting like a young lad with a crush!" Allan scolded himself as he buried his face in his hand, "And out of all the lovely lasses, why her?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the character, nor some of the lines used in this story.**

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"Please." Mark pleaded as he stared at the cynical man. He needed the Sheriff to consent a night pass, since several weeks ago the Sheriff had decreed that Mark was not allowed to leave the castle without his approval. And right now, the consent was of utmost importance or his plan to rescue Daniel, the imprisoned boy, would fail. This would force them to resort to one of Robin's reckless plans. Contrary to Mark's plan which was based on shrewdness; to obtain the Sheriff's insignia on an order that stated the release of the boy, by placing the order carefully underneath the night pass, which was simply a detour.

Mark had used Guyline as an excuse, yet the Sheriff had a hard time believing him. Furthermore, he hated how the son of the Lord of Knighton was a distraction to his right hand. Nonetheless, after few seconds of staring at each other, the Sheriff grabbed some melted wax to consent the pass. But of course, it wasn't before he had thrown some of his rude remarks, which Mark had to listen to silently. He would never risk his father's life for such a petty act.

Once the pass was consented, and in hand, Mark headed toward Hood's camp. On the way, he kept thinking of what the Sheriff had said. Something regarding Guyline showing compassion to these little boys, and that drew a smile on Mark's face. However, he then felt a pang of guilt. To him, this was nothing but a rescue mission, and he would have had never thought of visiting Guyline otherwise.

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As soon as the brunet had reached the camp, he showed the gang the order, and explained the plan he had in mind.

"Giborne won't release him to us. But will release him to a castle guard." Robin explained further with a grin, as she tapped the top of a headgear that was usually worn by the castle guards.

The gang members looked at each other hesitantly, and then Allan offered, "I will do it."

With an amused look, Robin nodded, and handed the headgear to Allan. All the while Mark asked with a worried look, "Are you aware of the risks? If Guyline catches you-"

"Don't worry." Allan intercepted as he stared at the headgear, "Party at my aunt's."

"You are a brave man." Mark admired with a smile.

"Well…" Allan shrugged as he avoided Mark's stare, for he knew he didn't deserve the praise; he was a traitor.

"Well then, the Sheriff expects me to show myself at Gisborne's." Mark stated. He then smiled at Allan and said, "Good luck."

Allan smiled back wearily, for Mark wasn't making his _other_ mission any simpler. He was in a dilemma. He had never imagined that betraying the gang would be this hard, especially now that a little boy's life was at risk. Fortunately, his dilemma was soon to come to an end that evening.

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Once Mark was at Locksley, he was allowed in by one of the servants. Meanwhile,

Guyline was examining the armor that was molded by the foreign blacksmith. It was molded using a special Damascus steel, which made the armor invincible.

As soon as Mark had laid his eyes on Guyline's visage, he was stunned. She was in a blue dress, and her jet-black hair was let loose and it cascaded up to her waist. He had never seen her in a dress, though it was rather casual, nor had he seen her with her hair flowing over her shoulders, framing her petit face. As he walked closer, he let out an awkward laugh; she looked less intimidating, and exceptionally breathtaking. This had rendered him both speechless and flustered.

When Guyline had noticed the arrival of her unexpected guest, with the armor stillin her hand, she looked at him questionably.

Mark felt awkward, and the sudden need to apologize, "Forgive me." He felt like he had stepped onto a sight that he wasn't yet privileged to see.

Whereas Guyline seemed uninterested by her guest's prompt visit, as she nonchalantly stated, "Mark it's late. What is so urgent?"

Still nervous, and taken by her rare sight, Mark replied, "I wish to speak to you." Then he looked at the servant that was aiding Guyline, and added, "In a personal matter."

She looked at him with detached eyes, and then nodded for the servant to leave. Once alone, she walked to Mark, and asked, "Yeah, What is it?"

Mark became more nervous by the proximity, and his eyes kept fluttering around not knowing where to look as he said, "There is bad blood between us."

Guyline scoffed, and looked to her side.

"Please, Guyline." Mark pleaded.

"You overestimate yourself." Guyline retorted as she darted her piercing gaze toward Mark, "I used to love you, but no anymore. Now I feel nothing. I have further, greater concerns, ambitions."

"Is there no hope for conciliation?" Mark pressed, "I know you're a woman capable of compassion." He took a step closer, and held his hand out for her, "I offer… I offer you friendship." He added as he thought carefully of his word choice.

Guyline looked at the offered hand, oh how she longed for his touch. She might have said those words, yet she knew they were out of hurt. And that she still, and would always love him. She grabbed his hand with her delicate one, and looked at him with hope-filled eyes, for she had sensed a bit of sincerity in his.

Mark was confused by his sudden desires for the woman grabbing his hand ever so tenderly. For the first time since he had met her, she stirred him, and he had no idea why. Unfortunately, those feelings disappeared as abrupt as they had appeared, and Guyline saw his confusion written all over his face. She squeezed his hand worriedly, and asked "What?"

"I don't know." Mark's anxious reply was. He had seen Robin lurking behind the shadows, eavesdropping at their conversation, and was forced back to reality.

"Mark, what is this all about?" Guyline pressed as she sensed Mark's sudden change in demeanor.

"It is about friendship. That is all." Mark replied as he looked away.

"No." She replied as she caressed his cheek, "Humph. This isn't about friendship. This is about your freedom."

At her prompt accusation, Mark pulled back his hand. He was upset. His visit might have had a different goal in mind, yet he had found himself softening up to her, and he genuinely felt sorry for his previous deceitful acts.

On the other hand, Guyline was taken by Mark's withdrawal. The moment he pulled back his hand, she clutched hers with regret. She wished for nothing more than to take back all what she had said, and bury her self into his embrace. However, she would never bend her pride, not after what he had done to her; the humiliation he had caused her the day he had left her standing alone at the altar. No, she would rather be the wicked one, and keep up her egoistic façade.

A sudden knock interrupted them. Guyline was aggravated by it, yet a bit thankful for being pulled out of this unwelcomed turn of events. She stood in her place, looking at the back of the man she yearned for as he left, and let out a breath that she hadn't notice that she had been withholding. And, almost instantly, with no one left in the room, all the emotions she had been concealing had flooded her face. Hurt, betrayal, and heartbreak.

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All the while, none of them knew that there was a fourth body that had been observing the situation too.

Allan A' Dale had also been secretly concealed by the darkness, observing his, rather sudden, love interest as she spoke with the man she loved.

"Humph. What an amazing actor you are, Mark." Allan mumbled to himself in contempt. He hated how Mark kept feigning interest in Guyline, giving her absent hope.

"God, Guyline! When will you realize this charade?" He scowled as he saw her grabbing Mark's hand keenly, and hope rising in her captivating, blue eyes. Oh, how he loathed Mark at that instant. Fortunately, one of the servants interrupted them on the account of the Sheriff's message, and Allan was relieved. However, it was only momentarily, for once Mark had left, he saw what he would have never anticipated; a tear fleeing Guyline's precious, blue eyes. Her face showed genuine hurt, but still Lady Gisborne refused to give in to such emotions. The moment that tear trickled down her cheek, she had wiped it away with quite determination.

While Allan had been absolutely astonished by the tear, he was even more baffled by her latter reaction.

"What a strong lady. I shouldn't have expected any less." He laughed bitterly, and wondered what kind of past had forged this strong-willed lady.

It was at that moment that his dilemma was no more, and he was determined to let her on to Robin's plan. For Robin had so many allies, he reasoned, while Guyline had none but herself. And so he decided to be hers, even if she had no trust for him.

"Well then, it's time for my move." Allan grinned cheekily, for he had never been this sure about any decision his entire life. Nonetheless, he gave Guyline a few minutes to gather her composure, and then proceeded with Mark's plan, but with his own little twists in mind.

"What now?" Guyline sneered, when she hear another knock.

"A-a castle guard is here to see you, My Lady." A servant stammered as he showed the guard in, and scurried away.

"I already got the Sheriff's message." Guyline stated dismissively, as she stared at the fireplace.

"So you wouldn't want to know what Robin is planning, eh?" Allan asked rhetorically.

"Allan?" Guyline inquired, as she turned on her heels.

"Miss me, My Lady?" He smirked, but was taken aback, as she fully faced him. Earlier, he was barely able to see her face, but now she was right in front of him, in her full glory.

"Tell me you got me something worth it this time." She exclaimed, and approached him eagerly.

"I-I…" Allan stammered nervously. His heart was racing, she was so beautiful, and he couldn't look anywhere else. He wanted to wrap his hands around her tiny waist, lock his lips onto her soft ones, and stroke her silky, raven hair.

"What?" Guyline grimaced.

"Could you like…tie your hair?" Allan scowled, and looked away promptly, "It's distracting."

Guyline face twitched in dismay, and as she grabbed a pin to fasten her hair, she said, "If you are wasting my time. I swear-"

"Aah, spare me the threats. I got you something really good this time." Allan intercepted her, as he glanced at the dinner table, trying not to get sidetracked by her. He sat down, and started eating as he explained to her Mark's plan and why he was sent here. But of course, he didn't forget to leave the Mark part out.

"And how did you, lot, managed to get the order?" Guyline questioned suspiciously.

Allan stared at her for a while, for she had always managed to ask the good questions. He honestly wanted to tell her about Mark, and his charades, but thought that he might end up hurting her much more than doing her any good. And hurting her was the last thing he wanted do.

"I dunno. Robin managed somehow." He lied, "They will get suspicious if I keep sniffing around where I'm not supposed to."

And Guyline seemed to agree to that, "So, your plan fails. What will Robin do?" She then asked, knowing that Robin always had a back-up plan.

"What's its worth?" Allan asked, and Guyline waved a pouch of coins in response.

Subsequently, Allan explained Robin's back-up plan, and as he finished he added, "Hey, Guyline?"

"Yeah?" She answered as she paced around with a victorious smirk.

"You do know I'm here for you?" Allan muttered timidly.

Guyline stopped pacing, and frowned at Allan, "What? I can't hear you."

"Nothing." Allan sighed, and cursed his cowardice.

"Here." She turned, and threw him a few coins, "Eat your fill, and leave. I don't want anyone to see you around here. And Allan?"

"Yeah?" Allan replied as he munched on a piece of bread.

"What would you tell Robin?" She asked curiously.

"Oh, that's easy. You recognized me. We brawled. And of course, I won, and you dispatched the guards." He replied cheekily, "What can I say, you are in a dress."

"Really?" Guyline smirked, and then smacked Allan across the face.

"Hey! What was that for?!" Allan exclaimed, as he rubbed his cheek.

"Believability." Guyline grinned wickedly.

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**A/N: If you enjoyed this, please leave a review it will really encourage me. And do check my other RH stories. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** **Thank you everyone for your precious reviews. They mean the world to me! And I'm so sorry for the extreme delay. I barely have anytime to write, but I promise I will update at least once a month.**

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Allan A'Dale was still baffled by what he witnessed earlier today. He knew that Robin would somehow manage to save the boy, Daniel, even though their original plan was doomed to fail. But did she have to push it so far? Why did she humiliate Guyline that way? Were those stones more worth it than a human's life?

The blue-eyed man was furious by Robin's actions, and betraying the gang never seemed easier.

"What do you want?!" A voice broke the silence and Allan's train of thoughts.

"Huh..." Allan kept blinking as he tried to regain his focus. "Oh...ya… I just came to check up on ya, Guyline."

Guyline stared at the dark-blond scornfully, but before she could say anything Allan added, "I thought you might need some company."

"Hah! Really? And what makes you think that your company would be needed here? If I required any at that matter." Guyline stressed mockingly. Allan sighed, for her reply was pretty much expected. However, what she said next was far beyond anyone's expectations.

"Do you pity me, Allan?"

The outlaw was taken by surprise by her sudden and unusual question. Nonetheless, he managed a haste reply and almost shouted in anger, "Hey! I don't pity you!" But he then added softly, "I just wanna help."

Guyline raised an eyebrow and let out a scornful snort, "Help, huh?"

However, her expression abruptly changed to a bitter one as soon as she repeated that word. '_Help'_. Why would she need anyone's help? The Sheriff had made her life's worth crystal clear. And to her dismay, she was certain that Mark was only trying to help Robin; her life was spared as an added bonus. Guyline bit her lower lip. As much as she hated to admit it, this really hurt her.

On the other hand, confusion was written all over Allan's face. He had half expected her scornful reply, but didn't understand the sudden change in her demeanor.

"Guyline...?" Allan pleaded gingerly. He was about to place a hand over her shoulder, but she promptly brushed off. She stared at him with anger seething eyes and sneered, "Leave."

The blue-eyed man wanted to protest, but he couldn't help but to comply with her demand. Guyline had been depending on no one but her own for far too long, and he didn't want to force her to do otherwise. None the matter, he was still planning on gaining her trust, using her pace though.

Before leaving, Allan gave Guyline one last look, as if praying for her to change her mind and ask him to stay. But he knew better, and let out a heavy sigh as he headed to the door.

"Half-wit..." Guyline mumbled as she saw the outlaw slip through the darkness. She then went upstairs to her room, hoping that she might be able to rest her eyes and stop herself from drowning into today's incident.

The dark-haired lady slipped out of her blue dress, and wore an ivory sleeping gown that highlighted her petite silhouette. She then brushed her silky hair and braided it as she always did before going to bed.

Now lying on her bed, Guyline found Allan's words repeating in her mind in an endless loop. It annoyed her greatly. What in the heavens can a mere outlaw do? She was out-casted by people whom she grew up with and around. Once an outcast, always an outcast. No one is to be trusted. And most definitely not, Allan A'Dale.

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As soon as Allan reached the camp, much to his dismay, he was greeted by Much's voice. "Hey, Allan, where have you been?"

"None of your business, Much." Allan spat. He was pretty much not in the mood for anyone.

"Someone seems in bad mood." Robin jested as she ate her dinner. However, Allan ignored her and headed directly to his so-called bed.

"Seriously, Robin?" Djaq sighed at Robin's childish antics.

"What?" Robin pouted at Djaq, who sighed once again and went to check on Allan.

"I'm sorry Djaq. But I'm not in the mood for anyone." Allan dismissed apologetically as Djaq came within sight.

"Does it have to do with today's events?" Djaq questioned, and then she added as Allan raised a questioning eyebrow, "Guyline, perhaps?"

"W-what does, Guyline, have to do with anything?" Allan stammered at Djaq surprising remark.

"Well..." Djaq started but hesitated.

Allan kept staring at her in anticipation, all the while he was trying to contain his anxiety. Did she catch him betraying the gang?

"What? Well, what?" Allan snapped as he tried his best to hide his edginess.

"Earlier, when Robin was bargaining the stones for Guyline, you were trembling." Djaq finally said, and then she elaborated as she noticed Allan's confusion, "Your body was trembling in anger, Allan."

Allan blinked a few times as he tried to fathom what he just heard. He was relieved that he was safe, but honestly had no idea what Djaq was talking about. When did he tremble? She's not making any sense.

Djaq had never seen the carefree Allan so troubled. She couldn't help but grab his hand and add softly, "Allan, please don't worry. I won't judge you."

The blue orbs stared at her in desperation, "Was I really trembling? I mean why did I..." Allan had found himself for the first time in his life at loss for the right words.

"Yes, you were." Djaq replied gingerly, and then she urged him, "What were you thinking about at the moment? Feeling?"

Allan looked at Djaq's chocolaty-brown eyes, and saw nothing but sincerity. She smiled at him, giving him the courage to speak. He had no idea what was happening to him, however, if there was anyone he could trust and would help him understand, it was most certainly Djaq.

"Mad...Unbelievably, mad." Allan managed to reply as he stared intently at the palm of his hand. He might not understand it, but the feeling was yet fresh in his mind, "And worried...mostly worried."

"And why is that?" Djaq asked as she gave Allan's chin a slight nudge, making him look at her. Allan looked at her for a while then stared back at his palm. He didn't understand how Djaq was so calm, when he was speaking of such feelings for someone who was supposed to be their enemy.

"Come on." Djaq encouraged, "Why were you mad? What made you worry?"

"I-I..." Allan stammered as he looked at Djaq's kind eyes, "I dunno...I just hated how Robin insisted on humiliating Guyline. She didn't have to go so far! That is all I know."

Djaq saw how stressed Allan was as he tried to find the right words for how he felt. "Allan, look at me." Dajq said softly, "I am sorry, you don't have to force yourself. Take your time, for there is no need to hurry. Try to rest for now."

"Thank you, Djaq." Allan smiled wearily, "Thank you for always being there for me."

"I am your friend, aren't I?" Djaq smiled back.

The Saracen had her guesses, but would rather the man himself get acquainted with his newborn feelings. Nonetheless, she still carried a ray of hope that she might be mistaken. Thus, she bade Allan goodnight, and went back to join the gang around the campfire.

The moment Djaq was out of sight, Allan heaved a deep and long sigh. He knew he fancied the lady clad in black, he had countless encounters with the other sex to affirm it. Yet, he never once had this overwhelming feeling to protect anyone before. Ever since he had seen her cry, though it might have been a single tear, his mind was set on becoming her anchor. And that was all that mattered to him right now.


End file.
